Two Faced
by SiriusFan13
Summary: We all know how in the PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, Harry was convinced the Snape was the baddie. And I'm sure many of us suspect that Harry was lucky he was wrong. But what if Snape really had been the villain? AU based on this scenerio. Please Review!
1. Prologue

**Two Faced**

**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing of Harry Potter or his universe. That would be the work of the talented JK Rowling, whom I would someday love to meet, but for now will have to satisfy myself with dabbling in her creation..._

_Author's note: This is an Alternate Universe fanfic based on a question a friend and I posed and forced ourselves to ponder. We all know that in the _Philosopher's Stone_, Harry was convinced that Snape was the baddie. And I'd guess we all suspect that if Snape _had_ been the baddie, Harry could have been much worse off. Well, here's the story based on this idea!_

**Prologue**

The Leaky Cauldron, which a moment before had been filled with the bustle of typical pub activity, had now fallen silent. All eyes were focused on one figure as the result of a single name being spoken: Harry Potter.

The small, thin boy looked baffled by the sudden attention, especially when several witches and wizards began crowding around him just for the chance to shake his hand, or even touch him. He was, after all, the Boy who Lived. A celebrity because of something he couldn't even remember doing. But that small detail didn't seem to bother the crowd any.

Only one wizard in the inn seemed unimpressed by the boy. He was a tall, pale figure with glittering black eyes. He stood, seemingly unimportant, near the bar, wearing a hooded black cloak. As usual, the hood was up, casting shadow across much of his face. If it was to keep him unrecognizable, it failed, because in no time, the boy's huge companion, Rubeus Hagrid, steered Harry over to the cloaked man.

"Harry c'mere. This ere's one of your professors at Hogwarts. Professor Snape, sir, this is Harry Potter.

Severus Snape's lips twisted into what Harry assumed was supposed to be a smile. It looked more like a grimace.

Harry stretched out a hand, "Pleased to meet you, sir."

Snape didn't move, but instead observed Harry for a moment with his cold eyes. Finally he spoke. "So, the famous Mr. Potter is finally coming to Hogwarts. Has it already been eleven years? My, how time flies." His voice was smooth and as cold as ice.

Involuntarily, Harry shivered, withdrawing his hand.

Snape turned to Hagrid. "Keep an eye on him, Hagrid. We wouldn't Mr. Potter to fall into any dangerous circumstances, would we?"

"Of course, professor. Well, I'd best be getting' young Harry teh Diagon Alley. He still has his things teh buy." Hagrid steered Harry to the back door of the inn.

"He doesn't like me much," Harry murmured, rubbing his head. He suddenly had a headache.

"Oh, don' you worry about it. He acts that way with everyone. Always has. An' after his trip to Albania last summer, he's been even worse. It don' have nothin' teh do with you."

Harry glanced back at the cloaked professor, not so sure. The man was still staring at him. And if Harry could have seen Snape's eyes in the shadows, his fears would have been confirmed. Because it was with hatred that Snape watched the small boy leave the inn. Hatred for what Harry was, and for what he, himself, could never be.

* * *

_Author's Note Number Two: As usual, I start with a short prologue, and promise longer chapters. However, not as usual, I must inform you that this story will not be updated for awhile. I promised to start it soon, so here it is, but as I worked on it, I realized that I really needed to reread the _Philosopher's Stone_ if I wanted this to be anything worth reading. Please bear with me. This will be updated only when I find time to finish rereading that book. After that, it will probably be updated monthly. Sorry about that. I hate doing that, but I'd rather it go that way than give you anything less than my best!_

_On a happier note, please review this chapter. Reviews always help me write. Please consider reading my other fanfictions: my two short stories: "Standing Outside the Fire" and "Last Thoughts" (both contain book 5 spoilers) and my longer fanfiction _Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin. _They can be accessed from my bio page. The short stories are done and _Heir_ is typically updated on Mondays at least once a month (more often when I can)._

_Finally, (and I promise this will be the last note on this HORRIBLY long author's note) please keep your eyes open for my new AU fanfiction, _The Choices We Make_. It's coming soon and will be updated at least once a month... And just so you don't worry, my author's notes are usually not this insanely long!_

_Happy reading and reviewing!_


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

Harry didn't see Professor Snape again until the first day at Hogwarts. Harry, like his new friend, Ron Weasley, had been sorted into Gryffindor house, and they were now seated in the Great Hall, eating supper. On either side of Harry sat a Weasley. To his left sat Ron, and to his right sat Percy, one of Ron's older brothers. For once, Harry felt happy and involved. The only thing spoiling this night was the fact that his head was hurting him again.

Harry rubbed his forehead and glanced over at the professor's long table. He only knew four of the professors there. Dumbledore he recognized from a chocolate frog card he'd gotten on the train. McGonagall had taken them into the Great Hall. And Snape was talking with a thin, pale professor with light brown hair, whom Percy had identified as Professor Quirrell, the Defense Agaist the Dark Arts teacher. Harry shifted his focus back to Snape, who oddly enough, was still wearing his hooded black cloak.

Harry leaned over to Percy. "Does Snape_ always_ wear that cloak? Even inside?"

Percy looked up from his chicken dumplings. "What? Oh, that. Yes, Professor Snape does wear that rather often."

"I think it's to make him seem more intimidating," muttered George Weasley, another of Ron's brothers.

"Not that he needs it," replied Fred, George's twin. "He looks enough like a vampire as it is."

"He's always swooping around potions classes looking for reasons to take points from Gryffindor," George went on. "Be careful of him."

"He teaches potions, then?" asked Harry.

Fred nodded. "Yeah. Although I heard he bid for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again. Turned down as usual. Not that I'm surprised. Quirrell's actually a pretty good teacher."

George grinned. "Yeah, but you'd think the time Snape spent in Albania studying werewolves would count for something, huh?"

Harry tuned them out as their conversation shifted to werewolves, watching the tall, greasy looking man. He didn't understand why that man seemed to give him a bad feeling, but he didn't like being around him. _Hadn't_ liked it at all since the first time they'd met.

A bossy sounding girl with bushy hair who had been sitting across from Harry butted into the conversation. "You know, I read in _Dark Creatures of the World_ that Albania doesn't contain any werewolves. It's one of only three countries on earth that have a climate hospitable to them, but refuses to let them into the border."

Ron sent the girl a quizzical look. "What? How do you keep a _werewolf_ from entering your country? Ask for its passport?" He snorted. "I can see that." He struck a pose similar to the strict looking man Harry had seen at King's Cross., and in a deep, fake voice said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Werewolf, Sir. But your passport says that you have a medical condition that keeps you from being allowed in our country. Maybe you could come back when you've fixed that little lycanthropy problem."

The boys began laughing.

The girl glared at him. "It isn't funny. It's true. Apparently in Albania, Hungary, and portions of China werewolves are hunted and killed. They're considered to be monsters."

Ron exchanged an incredulous look with Harry. "I'm sorry to break it to you, but werewolves _are_ monsters."

She let out a disgusted sigh as though he didn't know what he was talking about and went back to her meal.

Ron was still glaring at her over his potatoes, so Harry was left to try to smooth the rift. She _was_ in their house after all. He smiled nervously at the girl. "I'm Harry... we... well, we met on the train didn't we?"

She nodded. "Yes, we did. My name's Hermione Granger. And your _friend_ is...?"

"My name's Ron Weasley," the redhead muttered, stuffing more food into his mouth.

"Delighted," Hermione said dryly, not looking at all delighted to have made his acquaintance. She turned back to Harry. "I just thought it was odd that Professor Snape would go to one of the few countries that don't allow werewolves , for the purpose of studying one. That's all." She shrugged. "I was trying to make conversation. I've also read that Albania along with several of the surrounding countries are known for their other dark creatures like vampires and such."

"See?" George crowed, suddenly interrupting the conversation. "Didn't I tell you, Harry? He's a vampire. Probably went home to see his family under the guise of a hunting expedition." He reached across Ron and slapped Harry on the back, almost causing both first years to choke on their food.

Hermione pursed her lips primly. "That isn't funny, you know. You shouldn't say things like that about a teacher."

Ron's jaw dropped. "But _you_ brought it up in the first place."

"I _told _you that I was only trying to make conversation."

"But who brings _that_ sort of stuff up as--" He broke off, sputtering when Harry suddenly put his hand to head head again. "Something wrong, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, his green eyes glancing back up at Snape's table. "My head hurts, that's all. I'll be fine. Just a headache."

But at that moment his eyes met the potion master's, and he got the distinct impression that everything _wasn't_ going to be okay.

* * *

The following day was Harry's first taste of classes. Many were difficult. McGonagall was a strict professor, and although Quirrell _was_ arguably a good teacher, and his subject was interesting, he was so obsessive about details that it seemed like it was going to be a _long_ year getting through his class. But the worst subject by far was potions.

Snape had taken every available moment to torment Harry, asking him questions he couldn't answer. Ridiculing everything from his weak knowledge of magic, to his fame, to his muggle background. It seemed like Snape took every opportunity he had to put Harry into an awkward or dangerous situation, and see how he got out of it. Worst of all, he seemed to get great amusement out of it. Especially as using Harry as an example of what _not_ to do in almost any situation. Of course, Harry was learned a great deal in that first day, the most important being the fact that he'd have to find a way to become invisible if he wanted so survive that class.

Ron had done his best to try and cheer him up, and even Hermione seemed determined to take some of the burden off of Harry by trying to answer many of the questions herself. (How _did_ she know all of those things?) But by the end of the class it was obvious that Snape had turned Harry into a specific target, and no one was going to change that.

Harry was just grateful that he wasn't in Slytherin. He could only imagine how much of a nightmare _that_ would have been, as Snape was head of the house!

And Snape wasn't the only Slytherin Harry had problems with. Apparently one of the first years, Draco Malfoy had taken an interest in bothering Gryffindors as well, if interest was an appropriate word. If students and professors were allowed to team up, Harry had no doubt that he'd never have survived his first day, although Draco had never specifically targeted Harry, himself, he was sure it was only a matter of time.

By the time he and Ron had dragged themselves back to their rooms that evening, they were exhausted. They certainly didn't expect to slip through the portrait door to see an upset Hermione sitting in the common room alone in tears. When she saw them, she snuffled a little, and tried to brush them back from her face, only smearing them more and further irritating her already red eyes. Hermione was not a pretty crier, that was for certain.

"Is something... wrong?" Harry asked tentatively.

She just shook her head. "It's nothing... it's just... nothing..."

The boys exchanged awkward looks. Obviously this was something, but what was anyone supposed to do about it if the girl wouldn't talk?

Ron tried this time, "Uh... did you maybe want to tell us why you're blubbering on the sofa?"

Harry hit him, shooting a glare in Ron's direction.

"_What?"_ the redhead snapped. "That _hurt_."

"Well that was a stupid way to put it."

"Stupid way to put _what_? She _is_!" He motioned in frustration to the distressed girl.

"They chased me when I was coming from the library," Hermione whispered, interrupting their exchange. "I was just coming back with my homework, and it was as though they'd been waiting for me or something." She sniffled, and wiped the back of her hand against her eyes again.

"They?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Slytherins," Ron replied darkly, eliciting a startled look from both Hermione and Harry. He noticed their expressions, and added, "Well who else would it have been?" He looked at Hermione. "I'm right, aren't I?"

She nodded silently.

The redhead snorted. "See? I knew it. Only the worst wizards and witches wind up in Slytherin." He sent Harry an even darker look. "Even You-Know-Who was a Slytherin."

"Voldemort went to Hogwarts?" Harry exclaimed.

"_Shhhhhhh...!"_ Ron looked around as though he thought the Dark Wizard were going to spring from the shadows. "_Harry!_ I _told_ you not to say his name. Dead or not, you don't _ever_ say his name! Maybe he can't hurt _you_, but he can get the rest of us!"

Harry flushed a deep red. "Sorry... er... But we're not talking about me, are we?" he asked quickly, trying to change the subject. He turned to Hermione. "So they chased you from the library?"

She blushed a little. "They waited for me outside. I thought I'd get ahead on some reading, but they stole my book and chased me to the common room as soon as I came out."

Harry's green eyes flashed angrily. "Do you know who they were?"

Hermione shook her head. "Only one. He was that blonde boy, Draco Malfoy. I didn't know the others."

"Crabbe and Goyle, likely," muttered Ron. "Harry and I got a taste of them during potions, didn't we? There aren't two brain cells between them."

Harry nodded. "We can't let this stand," he said. "We need to do something about it."

"What? Harry, are you_ mad_?" Ron exclaimed. "Do you know who you're dealing with? That's Lucius Malfoy's son. The Malfoy's run practically _everything_. You don't need to get on their bad side. With the Malfoy's, it's best to stay completely invisible, which shouldn't be hard if we mind our own business."

"_Ron!_ McGonagall said that our house is supposed to be like a family. If Draco had done that to one of your brothers, would you just stand by?"

Ron looked thoughtful. "Well... if it were _Percy_..."

"_Ron!"_

Ron sighed. "Fine. Of course, I'd do something about it. But this is different. He just chased her around and called her names or something."

"Mudblood," Hermione whispered. "What's a mudblood? It sounds awful?"

The redhead's eyes shot in her direction. "Wait a minute. He called you _that?_ Why, that filthy slimeball."

"Ron?"

"That's disgusting. It's... it's..."

"Ron?"

"_What?"_

"What does it _mean_?" Harry asked.

"It's a filthy word people use to talk about anyone who isn't pureblood. Like wizards with one or both parents as muggles." He shook his head. "It's a sick word." He looked vicious. "Malfoy tried to call my father mudblood once, not because of his lineage, but because of his actions. My dad's interested in muggle things, so Lucius Malfoy decided that dad had tainted his _own_ bloodline somehow and disgraced us. That was the only time I think I've ever seen my dad _hit_ anyone." Ron's dark expression changed to a smirk. "It would have been fun if my dad hadn't almost lost his job over it. Apparently you can't make someone bleed in the Ministry. Against the law or something. Even if that someone _is_ barely human."

Ron began pacing. "We _have_ to do something about it, then. If he said _that_. We can't let it slide."

Harry grinned. "Great! Then you're with me."

"Definately."

"What can _I_ do?"

Both boys suddenly looked up as though they'd forgotten about Hermione even being there.

"You?" Ron asked. "Nothing. You don't have to do anything. _We're_ defending_ you_. It wouldn't work if you did something."

Her brown eyes widened in outrage. "Do you mean to tell me that you expect me to just sit around and _take_ it while you pay him back? _I'm_ the one he insulted. I have a right to help you, Ronald Weasley!" She stood up, infuriated. "I am no damsel in distress. If I have honor to defend, I'm helping you defend it."

"You know, she has a point, Ron."

The redhead glared. "We don't need some stupid girl getting in the way. We need to make up a plan tonight. What could _she _ possibly help with?"

"I could tell you the ingredients to most of the potions in the potion book." She smiled sweetly at Ron's stunned expression. "And I could possibly brew most of them. I'm also halfway through with reading the Charms text"

The boys exchanged looks. "Maybe a girl wouldn't be so bad..." Harry suggested.

Ron didn't even try to argue.

* * *

_Author's Note: Please, don't have a heart attack... DID actually update this. However, it was only because in honor of book 6 coming out, I decided to update ALL of my Harry Potter fics. This one will not be updated regularly, and will probably wind up on hiatus again until I finish at least one more of my fics. But anyway, thank you so much for reading. Please review!_


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